Location: Great Harbor Peter, BVIs
An early awakening indeed, at five o’clock am to resume my watch post during our return to the BVI from the mystical island of Saba. As night melted into the soft light of morning, a slight melancholy hung in the air as we approached our destination; this would mark the end of the last true voyage we would undertake on our now beloved Ocean Star. Sighting the Baths (named thusly for various disputed reasons) brought forth an atmosphere of exuberance and jocularity among the crew as we sauntered up to the mooring. We took our MTE exams (the results of which are yet to be revealed) and luncheoned on noodles and bean soup. We presently were ferried to the Baths by our fearless leader, Captain Dan, for an all-too-brief visitation consisting of splashing around in the various caves and pools, climbing rocks, and basking in the cool blue-green waters (a personal highlight of the trip’s observations). An hour and a half later, we hoisted anchor and set off for Salt Island, a short jaunt to a rather famous (or infamous) dive site. The 300 ft. RMS Rhone met its end during a hurricane in 1867a very popular wreck dive considered to be one of the finest in the Caribbean. As we descended deep into the murky depths, clarity was restored to us upon reaching the bottom. The exploration of the sunken vessel was of both majestic and eerie quality, as many of the passengers were lost to the depths upon its sinking. Everywhere teemed with the life of all colors and varieties; tiny minnows cyclone in massive schools, large pufferfish swam idly by, and surfaces everywhere were covered by a multitude of spongy outgrowths. Rumors circulate of ghosts and spirits, though I felt no paranormalities while I was below. Back aboard, we again hoisted anchor bound once more for Great Harbour Peter, which was the secluded little place of our first anchorage at the dawn of our salty voyage. We feasted on a hearty Mexican buffet, a culinary cornucopia, if you will, provided by our dedicated daily chefs. Following a hasty clean-up, we witnessed nostalgic documentation of our exploits of the last 20 days in the form of a slideshow compiled by our lovely galley master, Leah. A bittersweet story was recited by our Captain, which served as a precursor to the night’s final activity. Twenty cards were handed out to each for the purpose of a kind of memorabilia. Each crew member is to write a heartfelt note of a positive or complementary nature to every other crew member, which I find to be the most appropriate end to our journey. Tomorrow, we motor a short distance to Soper’s Hole, West End, where, inevitably, we must depart back to whence we came, to our various residencies. It has been a journey of remembrance, and I will carry the events in my mind to the end of my days.